


A Natural Progression

by louise_lux



Category: Hannibal (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, Mads/Hugh, Mild D/s, Mild Daddy Kink, RPS - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 06:56:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1769830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louise_lux/pseuds/louise_lux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as a sequel to Within Reach by Emungere, in which Mads and Hugh swap roles and get a little too into them.</p>
<p>They told each other it would be a one-time thing, but it isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Natural Progression

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Within Reach](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167994) by [emungere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emungere/pseuds/emungere). 



They hadn't talked about it since it happened. But it played through Hugh's mind on nights like this, when filming seemed an endless loop and home seemed very far away. It was eerily real behind his eyelids, as if he were watching it on a monitor: Mads on his hands and knees, taking him deep. The way he'd submitted so fast. His own fist in Mads' hair. Christ.

He still had fake blood under his fingernails from today's filming, and he only had to close his eyes to see the blank black eye of the camera. It was hard to form a coherent thought, apart from one, which nagged at him with such clarity that it'd made him half hard for the past hour: he wanted Mads like that again. He looked at his alarm clock. It was 12.30, late enough for most of the crew to have eaten and collapsed into bed. Mads would be in bed. He wouldn't be expecting Hugh. More accurately, he wouldn't be expecting Hannibal.

“Don't,” he told himself. But he drank the remaining wine in his glass, and then he stood. He went to the en suite, rinsed his mouth out, smoothed back his hair, and stared at his own tired face. “Don't.” After a moment's thought, he went to his bedside table and dug through it, and took out a small penknife.

Mads' room wasn't far, a floor up and along a silent, deeply carpeted corridor. He knocked, and after a slow minute the door opened. Mads was in t-shirt and shorts, his hair a mess. His eyes widened.

“Hugh?”

Hugh lowered his voice, let it grow cold, and felt his skin creep in gooseflesh. He looked Mads up and down, slowly. “We have an appointment.”

“I- I, uh.” Mads stared, and Hugh could see the slightly wary, dawning knowledge in his eyes, already ticking over into acceptance even though he'd only had seconds to process what was happening. Hugh wasn't sure what he'd have done it hadn't been there, and the thought made him close his eyes for a second. “Are you really so surprised that your friend let me out to play again?”

“I- Shit. No,” Mads said, as Hugh walked past him. A faint smell of soap and toothpaste drifted in from the bathroom. Mads trailed him into the room. He looked good: long legs, bare feet, broad shoulders stretching his t-shirt, and a look of dazed shock.

“I don't have a cancellation policy, Mads. My patients don't usually let me down more than once.”

“I-I won't forget again.”

He saw the moment Mads began to get hard, saw the ridge of it begin to push against his thin cotton shorts. He walked close, and slid his palm over it. Not asking, taking, because that was what they both wanted. Mads gasped, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Take these off. Get on the bed.”

“God. Hugh- “

“Incorrect.”

“Hannibal. Should we really be doing this? Again?” He spoke in a tumbled whisper, his accent slurring the words badly.

Hugh watched his mouth, remembering how good it'd been to kiss him. Slow, gentle kisses afterwards, the first time he'd kissed a man for anything other than make-believe.

“We both knew it wouldn't be just once.” Hugh reached into his pocket, and took out the knife. He opened it. It was too small and blunt to do any serious damage, but its danger was disproportionate to its effect on Mads. “Do you need more motivation? Here's an incentive.”

Mads crumbled, any resistance gone. “Oh god. No. Fuck. Fuck.”

Reality began to slide away, like it did in all the best scenes, when everyone was on fire and hitting their marks. “You enjoy the threat of violence. Interesting.”

Mads' throat worked. His eyes were dark and wide, and he was tracking from Hugh's mouth to his eyes and back again. “And you like to threaten it.”

Hugh's pulse began to thump, ramping up fast enough to make the room tilt. He had to swallow before he could speak. “All fours, and take your clothes off.”

Mads moved, throwing looks back at Hugh as if he couldn't believe he was really here. Hugh undressed and pulled open the bedside draw. Keys, lighter, cigarettes, notepad, a screwed up necktie. Lube. On the bed, Mads had done as he asked, and he was waiting with his head hanging down and his hands pressed flat on the rumpled sheets. His chest was working, as if his breathing were out of control. Merciless lust solidified in Hugh's gut. He stared, absorbing the picture for a moment, then climbed onto the bed behind him, and slicked himself quickly with one hand. With the other, he penetrated Mads' small tight opening, just one finger.

“Do you recall how fast you let me get inside you, last time?”

Mads gasped and arched his back. His voice was thick, almost distraught. “I can't forget it. I can't forget you.”

“I gave you something you've never dared ask for. You want that again. To cede power to someone more dominant.” So convenient that it matched what Hugh intended to give him. “A stronger man than you. Someone who takes away responsibility, who frightens and pushes you into giving in, letting him in, letting him fuck you. Use you.”

“Oh Jesus,” Mads said. It was almost a sob, and he clenched down around Hugh's finger. He looked back over his shoulder, his mouth soft and open, and moaned when he saw Hugh's face.

Hugh leaned down over him, letting Mads take some of his weight. He fucked his finger in and out, letting himself talk. “Is it a father figure that you want? You don't want to be responsible. You don't have to be. I can give you what you need.” The head of his cock slid wetly over Mads' skin, nudging between his cheeks, and he had to stop and breathe, to button back the moan. He fastened a hand in Mads' hair and pulled his head back.

“Please, please. Oh god.”

Hugh leaned down, mouth to his ear. He could feel his own hot breath, hear his own creepy whispering voice, and he was so hard he was aching. “You're going to tell me how you want it.”

Mads' knees slid further apart, a silent begging. Hugh watched his throat work.

“I- I don't.” Mads stopped, biting down hard on his lower lip. “I can't.”

Hugh took up the knife and held it to his throat. He felt outside his own skin, beyond himself, not sure what he'd do next. “Tell me, or this is over.”

Mads' eyes closed. Hugh could smell the day old smell of his hair and the faint tang of nicotine under toothpaste. He let go of his hair and slid his hand over Mads' on the bed, linking their fingers together.

Mads let out a long breath. His fingers curled crushingly tight around Hugh's. “Oh fuck. I want-I want you in control. Of everything.”

Hugh slid the knife higher under his chin. “Clarify.”

“Me. _Me._ In control of me.” His voice was shaking and his words were rushed. “Don't give me a choice.” He hung his head. “Please.”

Hugh let go, pulling back. He dropped the knife, lined himself up and began to push in. Too fast, probably, but he couldn't slow down. “Your body wants me,” he said, leaning down to push his mouth against Mads' ear. “You're opening up so easily.”

He began to fuck Mads, and watched Mads drop to his forearms, panting with each thrust. He began to thrust harder, and when Mads moaned, let himself go as hard as he could, hard enough to force Mads to reach up and brace a hand against the wall.

He grabbed a handful of Mads' hair, pulled him back. “Don't do that,” he said, softly, and Mads obeyed, almost instantly. He wanted to obey, craved it. “I like how you feel around me, struggling for balance.” The bed began to thump dully against the wall. Hugh was sweating, his heart racing, but his mind was clear, almost still. He saw what Mads wanted, as clearly as if he'd told Hugh in some whispered conversation on a pillow. “Let Daddy fuck you.”

“Oh, oh. _Hugh_.” Mads shivered, head to toe, as if from an electric shock. He reached for his own cock and began stroking himself.

“That's who you want me to be, isn't it?”

Mads shook his head. His hand was moving fast. He ground himself back against Hugh.

“Say it. You want to.” He reached around, letting his weight push them down, and pushed Mads' hand away. He got his palm around Mads' cock and began to masturbate him, letting Mads push into the tight circle of his fingers. “Call me your daddy,” he said. Distantly he was aware of how feverish he sounded, how strung out. “Come on.”

And Mads did, faintly, on an outbreath, twice, and then: "Ah, god, fuck me, please." 

He came in Hugh's hand, and the slick wet heat of it pushed Hugh over the edge. He slid his arm around Mads' neck and bore him harder to the bed. He thrust into him carelessly hard, cruelly fast, revelling in the slick, crushing heat of him, and then Mads turned his head and found his mouth.

Hugh came quickly then, a surge of heat that left him shaking.

Afterwards, Mads rolled them over and latched onto his mouth again, flattening himself to Hugh, pressing in like he couldn't get close enough. They kissed for long enough to get chilled, as sweat cooled and their pulses slowed. There was nothing but the wet soft slide of Mads' mouth and tongue. Hugh didn't mind. He didn't want to start thinking again.

“I'm sorry,” he said, eventually. “That was too much.”

“Come on, get under here with me.” Mads pulled the duvet up over them, sliding his arm under Hugh to pull him close.

He enfolded them in warmth, and Hugh felt almost safe, drowned in softness and comfort. He squeezed his eyes closed, and then opened them to see Mads gazing at him from very close. His eyes were almost gold where they caught the light from the lamp. He wore a soft and almost awestruck expression, and it made Hugh's breath come a little short.

“Do you know you're incredible?” Mads said. “Do you realise how amazing you are?”

“You're bad for my ego.”

Mads kissed him, his mouth soft with erotic promise. “Your ego is one of the hottest fucking things I've ever been in bed with.”

“You really liked it that much?”

Mads moved closer, pressing kisses to his mouth. “No one's ever pulled that daddy stuff on me before. Where did that come from?”

Hugh slid his tongue into his mouth, laying his hand along Mads' jaw. He couldn't seem to taste enough, get close enough. “It seemed... a natural progression.”

Mads slid his hand down over Hugh's waist, pressing hard, possessively, his fingers digging in. “Yeah. I loved it. I'm not gonna lie. Not at this stage.”

“What stage are we at, exactly? I didn't mean to fuck things up. I know we agreed we wouldn't. But I kept thinking about you, and how good it was, and... ”

“Yeah.” Mads sighed, his hand tightening on Hugh's body, fingers twitching with a nervous beat. He slid an ankle over Hugh's calf. “Maybe we should let this run its course. Get it out of our systems.”

An irrational mean anger made him wonder how many others Mads had said that to. Lots, or none? He had no idea, or how things were with Hanne.

“You don't understand,” he said. He stared into Mads' clear eyes, feeling as if he were drowning in their clarity. “I'd want to fuck you every night.”

Mads smiled, almost ridiculously coquettish. He slid a palm over Hugh's softened cock. “You won't. We're not exactly young any more. Late nights, early starts.”

Hugh let his expression harden, pulled out Lecter's darkness and menace. It was almost too easy. He circled Mads' wrist with his fingers, tight, like a manacle. “Don't doubt my intentions,” he said, flattening any inflection.

Mads stared, and drew in a breath. He wet his lips. “I won't.”

“I'll come to your room whenever I like, and I'll want to fuck you. And you'll let me.”

Mads nodded, gaze locked on his. The inches of space between them became hot and electric, and he became aware of how tightly he was gripping Mads' wrist, how hard he was squeezing his bones, waiting for a response.

“Yeah. Yes.” It was breathless and intimate, pretty much the perfect mix of capitulation, lust and fear, and Hugh didn't think Mads was acting. Only as much as Hugh was acting, which was alarmingly little.

He let go and stroked carefully up Mads' arm, letting himself explore muscle and firm skin, until Mads took his hand and kissed his fingers.

“Sometimes I feel like I don't know how far I'll go,” Hugh said. “Or where I'll go.”

“You go to some crazy places. You take me with you. And, I don't want to stop.”

They would though. They didn't have time, logistics, or honesty on their side. Hugh searched for his mouth, and they kissed slowly. He needed to leave, and sleep, to drag himself back to normality, and so did Mads. Mads slid his hand into Hugh's hair, and kissed him again, hard, with an edge of desperation that sent a pang of fear and desire straight to Hugh's heart. He pulled back, panic fluttering in his stomach.

“I swear I won't come back tomorrow night,” he said.

Mads leaned close, pressing his forehead to Hugh's. “You're more convincing as Hannibal. I'll be waiting.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Emungere for betaing the sequel to your own story! Above and beyond.


End file.
